Page 135 of Finding the Forward: Part One
“I didn’t knowGriffin the Music Magicianplayed hockey,” a flutist whispered.
“Hockey was his backup plan.” Professor Dublonski chuckled at the old joke. She handed me her baton. “Maestro.”
Taking the baton, it all came back to me. I stepped on the podium and addressed the orchestra. “From the top.”
The rush I usually only felt on the ice sloshed over me. It felt like scoring the winning goal. Like slamming someone against the glass.
As I ran through the piece I wrote, with the orchestra I used to play with, I was no longer an imposter.
I was home.
Chapter Forty-Two
Verity
Music surrounded us as the orchestra played on the stage of the beautiful auditorium. While I didn’t quite understand music the way Dare did, I enjoyed most types, classical included. The concert was... interesting. This piece involved sock puppets. The one mixing electronic music with samples of well-known classical pieces had been fun.
“It feels like we’re in undergrad again, being supportive and going to his concerts,” Dean said quietly, head resting on my shoulder. “Or high school, since I attended all those, too.”
He’d been excited I’d brought him the last breadstick at the restaurant and had devoured it.
Looking over at Grif, I squeezed his hand. Seeing him on the podium had been an experience. There was an ease about his body that I’d only ever seen when he was on the ice.
The sock puppet piece ended, and everyone applauded. Grif stiffened beside me.
“It’ll be fine,” AJ whispered to him, giving him a squeeze. “I’m so excited.”
The applause ended, and Professor Dublonski, who I’d heard all about since she was one of my brother’s favorites, took the microphone. Someone pushed out the stripped car, which was on a wheeled platform.
“Thank you for joining us for our evening of experimental music. Our last piece isSonatina por ricombi auto,which was composed by one of our own, Boston and BosTec’s Griffin McGraff,” she told everyone. Applause filled the concert hall.
“Which piece is this? Is this the one with the bubble machine?” Jonas asked.
“No, this is the one with the car parts,” Dean replied.
Like she had for the other pieces, she gave some background on the composition. This one explored the themes of urban decay. “Photography is courtesy of our advanced photography class, and they’re all on display in the lobby.”
It was nice that BosTec had fine arts. A lot of thetechiesdidn’t have them. Or only had a handful as undergraduate electives, like NYIT did.
“I’m so excited to welcome Griffin McGraff himself, who will be conducting the piece,” she said, as the room exploded in cheers.
I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re going to be great.”
“You’re conducting? I’m so excited for you.” AJ kissed his other cheek.
Grif stood and walked toward the stage as the cheers continued. While he waved and smiled, he looked nervous.
Dean pouted. “He’s conducting, and you didn’t tell me?”
“We had no idea until Dare dragged us into the room, and the professor was handing him her conducting stick. He wanted to surprise AJ,” I replied, watching as he made his way to the stage.
“He did?” AJ put a hand to his heart. As usual, he looked like he was about to go on a high-speed chase through Europe in a sports car.
“Conducting stick?” Dean snorted. “It’s called a baton.”
Onstage everyone had assembled, including the ballet dancer who wore a garbage bag and black pointe shoes. The lights dimmed as Grif took the stage.
The orchestra went to attention. He put his arms up, baton in hand, expression focused. The music hit the room like lightning, sudden and dramatic. As the orchestra played and the ballerina danced, black and white photographs of dilapidated buildings, decayed houses, and abandoned lots filled with weeds appeared in the background.
